


this twisted reflection

by darthpumpkinspice



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Emotions!, F/M, Fix-It of Sorts, Hate Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-15
Updated: 2018-01-15
Packaged: 2019-03-05 02:18:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13378026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darthpumpkinspice/pseuds/darthpumpkinspice
Summary: Post-episode 11. Mirror Saru doesn't save Michael, and instead her and Tyler work out their frustrations on each other.





	this twisted reflection

**Author's Note:**

> ahhhhh called it! Slightly smug. Although not exactly how I predicted originally...therefore by rendering my previous series tragically not canon. But WOW what an episode. Wrote this right after it ended...hence why it might be a little wonky. I didn't give myself a whole lot of time to reread it over. Anyway, just throwing this little fic out here, hope you enjoy- it's sort of the fix-it I was hoping they'd do in the episode but oh well. Maybe soon!

His hand is heavy around her throat, squeezing with a brutal strength that can only be Klingon. Michael kicks against his knee to no avail, and then drives her thumb towards his eyes as she distantly remembers doing so many months ago, in another life, another universe.

It all feels so dizzyingly _familiar_ , like something out of a half-forgotten dream.  

Tyler- Voq- swats her hand away with a snarl, his face contorted with a rage she’s never seen him wear. In her universe he was the first man she ever loved, beautiful and fragile and  _warm_. In  _this_ universe, he has become a twisted reflection of himself; her greatest enemy and most unrelenting foe. She knew she'd be confronted with many familiar faces, but this is perhaps the most cruel. 

“You killed my lord,” he pants, pulling in closer until she can feel his hot breath against her cheek.

She’s lightheaded from oxygen deprivation, and the swarm of emotions swirling around in her skull is far too much for her brain to process.

_He’s not himself_ she thinks feverishly.

Perhaps she’s not herself either, because as her vision tunnels all she can focus on are his lips, so soft and human even as they curl back to bare teeth.

She pulls forward abruptly, and kisses him. He jerks back in surprise, and his hand falls from her neck. In the moment of brief freedom granted to her, she backhands him across the face and kicks him in the gut. Voq topples to the ground, a pained grunt escaping him.

He’s only down for a second, and when he rises there’s a renewed fury shining in his dark gaze. As expected, he slams her against the wall again- one hand against her throat, the other holding her wrists together. And then his mouth is against hers, and he’s biting at her lip in a punishing kiss.

Disgusted in herself, she kisses him back, moaning into his mouth even as his fingers flex around her neck. He releases her hands to rip off her armor, and in a daze she helps him, frantically pulling down the fabric of her bodysuit underneath.

Her hands are shaking, and she’s worried that if she gives herself any time to _think_ about what she’s doing this spell will break and she’ll lose whatever remains of her lover forever. Perhaps he’s feeling the same, because he buries his face into her neck as he undresses her, as if unwilling to look into her eyes. Maybe, Michael wonders deliriously as she frees herself from the bodysuit, he’s afraid he might see a reflection of himself in them.

He fumbles with his pants, and as soon as he has released his cock he pushes her back into the wall and grabs her legs, wrapping them around his torso as he buries himself into her. She’s ashamed that she’s already so wet, and doubly ashamed by her cry of lust as she tightens her legs around him.

He continues to kiss her, hungrily and hatefully, as he drives into her, fucking her with a punishing intensity. She pulls at his hair, and moves her hands to squeeze at his throat, and he gasps out in pleasure before he shakes himself free.

She’s never been fucked like this before, and she’s horrified at the orgasm swiftly building between her legs. Perhaps sensing this, Tyler – Voq – increases his pace, and a particularly vicious thrust sends her past the edge. She cries out, and faintly she hears him moaning in broken Klingon into her shoulder and his hips buckle as he spills himself inside of her.

He holds her up a moment longer, and murmurs something that sounds like _Kahless_ before he releases her and she slides off of him.

Naked and coated in sweat, Michael straightens herself to gaze at him. He’s trembling slightly, his eyes shadowed by the dark hair that’s fallen over his eyes. She’s gripped by an alien desire to push it back, and so she does. He makes a strange noise at her touch- part whimper and part snarl and she’s filled with a swell of pity despite herself. In this moment he doesn’t look like the proud Klingon she remembers, he looks like Ash Tyler- overwhelmed and terrified by emotions beyond his control.

She lets her hand linger on his cheek, and with a broken sigh he leans into the touch. She doesn’t know what name she should call him, so instead she simply asks, “now what?”


End file.
